You Can Still Have the Pieces

In our search, we unzip the most beautiful parts of your precious world and tear them off. We set them aside until what’s left is nothing but the most taciturn of truths—plywood and straw, cold concrete, nails holding everything together. And that is all. That’s the world now, take it or leave it, because you’ve forced our hand.

There’s great sorrow in our faces as we look and yearn and long for our own something sacred. We remember the day, the very moment, you hid it from us. Deep in the center of things and yet nowhere. Behind locked, closed doors.

And now we’ve found it. We are knocking. We are triumphant.

We’re sorry about the world, but look: you can still have the pieces. They’re here at our feet. With your gum.